


Secret Love Song

by williamastankova



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bottom Merlin (Merlin), Boys Kissing, Declarations Of Love, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Idiots in Love, Inspired by GIFs, Kissing, Love Confessions, Love Potion/Spell, M/M, Merlin is a Little Shit, Mild Smut, Mutual Masturbation, Rough Kissing, Surprise Kissing, Top Arthur, a whole lotta kissing, and songs, as always
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2020-07-25 22:24:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20033329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/williamastankova/pseuds/williamastankova
Summary: When Arthur begins kissing Merlin at every opportunity, the latter - although he's enjoying himself - begins to become suspicious. Smut, fluff & angst ensue, all wrapped into one!





	Secret Love Song

It just happens. There's no more elaborate way to put it, no fantastic description of how they get there. It's literally a normal day, albeit starting a little later as Arthur doesn't have anything scheduled until midday, so Merlin figures he'll give the prince a lie-in. Oh, and also, he's tired of waking up early to get told off all day himself, so that's an added bonus.

When he does finally wake Arthur up, however, there's something... off. Perhaps that should have been his first clue, looking back, because the prince didn't open his eyes, land his gaze on Merlin, and insult the man. In fact, he watched Merlin for the longest time, looking pensive, and slowly brought himself to sit on the edge of his bed.

In the meantime, Merlin's busying himself, bustling about the room and making up jobs for himself as he goes, trying to look impressive to the prince even though in reality he isn't doing very much at all. He straightens some things on Arthur's desk, and then makes to open the prince's wardrobe to ready his outfit for the day.

It when he walks there, when he dodges a heap on the floor, that it happens. To be honest, it's so quick, he barely has any time to react. Before he knows it, Arthur's grabbing his wrist and tugging him over.

"Oh!" Is all he manages to get out before he's toppling over. He thinks he might just be about to crush the man, to ruin his own destiny after so long of trying to protect Arthur, but suddenly he's stopped.

A strong arm - Arthur's other, unoccupied one - catches him by the shoulder, leaving him leaning over the prince, who's looking up at him with eyes Merlin's never seen before. He doesn't immediately hate it, which is a surprise, but then he doesn't really have much time to consider exactly how he feels, because Arthur's leaned up and he's captures Merlin's lips beneath his own, and... well. This wasn't what he expected to spend his morning doing.

He's unsure. He doesn't know what's happening, doesn't know why, doesn't know what the prince is planning to do if Merlin kisses him back. Maybe it's something based on feeling and instinct alone, but maybe it's something more malicious. Maybe, just maybe, if he kisses back, Arthur will withdraw and use this against him for the rest of his days, calling him out for the predictable, girlish attraction he has to the man.

_Then again_, Merlin considers, countering his own argument promptly, desperate to give in to the prince, _the way Arthur' got his hand tightly squeezing his shoulder, holding him in place as best as he can, and the way his other hand is snaking up Merlin's body and coming to rest, gently cupping his jaw... could this be so evil? Would it be so wrong of him to enable this sweet, tasty sin?_

Perhaps it's the softness of Arthur's lips, the shock of how easy it is for them to meld together, or merely Merlin's own desperate want that drives him to sit beside the prince on the bed, he couldn't say. He only knows that, when he does so, he feels Arthur smile and relax into the kiss, now able to let his hands roam all over his manservant's body, and that they do. Merlin is nervous, not wanting to push anything too far and scare off the prince, but when Arthur's hand moves from his jawline to his hair, coaxing him in, he figures it'd be okay for him to run a hand down Arthur's arm, coming to stop at his elbow, feeling the flex of Arthur's arm as the prince dips forward, leaning closer into him, trying to deepen the kiss.

Merlin briefly considers letting him have his way with this, too, but he knows deep within him that if they continue like this, he's not going to ever be able to stop himself, and he doesn't want to become a royal consort. As much as he wants to continue to touch Arthur, to run his fingers through the golden bedhead the man is sporting now, he forces himself to open his eyes and, seconds later, he breaks the kiss.

He clears his throat and stands abruptly, feeling suddenly awkward. Of all the plans he had today, not a single one had read 'let Arthur touch you up, and stick his tongue down your throat', but then he didn't actually write them down, so he could be wrong. Either way, he found he could not bring himself to look the prince in the eye, and only sheepishly looked up when he was almost sure Arthur was looking away.

He took the opportunity when he felt the heat of the prince's gaze fall from him, and yet he desperately wished he had not done this. There, when he looked up, he found a beautifully dishevelled prince, whose hair was somehow even messier than it had become overnight, and his lips looked thoroughly kissed. Pink, borderline bruised, perfect... Merlin longed to kiss him again, to push him down, to lay him back lovingly onto his pillows and clamber on top of him, straddling his hips, and kiss him until the world ended, but he did not. These were ridiculous thoughts formulated by a silly state of mind, and so without another word he continued with his tidying, though he did not dare to venture to make Arthur's bed when the prince moved far enough away through fear that he would fall into it and never get up again.

They did not mention it.

**

Somehow, he managed to distract himself. After such an event, it would be impossible to forget the happenings entirely, but for the most part he had gotten over the initial shock of the events. He reasoned that perhaps the prince was tired, or otherwise mistaken. He probably believed Merlin to be Gwen, or some other pretty lady he had had in his chambers, in his arms or in his dreams. Regardless, he regained his composure and returned to his work, obeying both Arthur and Gaius, and somehow getting a relatively good night's sleep once the days were over.

It was about three or four days since when it happened again. This time, he had finally retired for the night, returned to his chambers after bidding Arthur a good night, and entered the space that he shared with Gaius. He anticipated a brief conversation with the old man at least, and a night spent being lectured at worst, but when he set foot over the threshold he could not find the man anywhere.

Part of him was disappointed. He enjoyed his talks with his mentor, finding him to be a voice of reason in a world so loud and mad, and yet he could not help but sigh, overcome with a sense of relief. He would speak with Gaius in the morning, most probably, and they would discuss anything and everything they needed and wanted to. Gaius would probably find something to tell him off for, and yet they would emerge from the discussion stronger than ever. How terribly predictable, he thought, smiling to himself.

It took him next to no time to cross the distance from the door to his room, finding the silence somewhat eerie. He slipped into his room and all but collapsed into his bed, exhausted after a day well spent working - and working hard, come to think of it. He had cleaned Arthur's armour more than once, when the prince insisted he had not done a good enough job the first time. He had delivered medicines and the like for Gaius, chatted with Morgana and Gwen, and took some time to eat when he found it. He felt accomplished, and above all ready to sleep, so it came to his great dismay when there was a knock at the door.

He groaned, yet forced himself to roll out of bed. He figured it was Gaius returning, perhaps having his hands too full to do anything but knock, praying Merlin would be kind enough to open the door for him. He slipped from his bedroom into the main part of their abode, then reaching the door he had entered through just moments ago and swinging it open.

"Gaius, you really ought to give yourself a break. You are far too old to be carrying so many things," he said teasingly before he had fully opened the door, stopping himself speaking as he did so, for there, on the other side of the door, stood nobody other than the prince himself.

"Merlin," he said, whispering his servant's name as though it were a most vital secret, "May I come in?"

"I... well, I was just retiring to bed," Merlin tried not to be outright rude, but found any other way to tell Arthur he really did not want company right now. "What's the matter? Gaius is out at the minute, so if you-"

"I know he is," Arthur stated, matter-of-factly, "I was the one that sent him away."

"Oh," Merlin said, then narrowed his eyes at the prince, shaking his head, "Why did you do that?"

"Because..." Arthur made to speak again, but decided against it. He instead closed his mouth and regained his composure, obviously trying to calm his whirring mind. "Merlin, I wanted to speak with you, if that's alright."

"Of course, sire," Merlin dropped the title, noticing how tense the man had become. He did not want to risk upsetting Arthur further, for he feared the wrath he suspected he was about to feel was ferocious enough without his fuel added to the fire, "What's the matter?"

For some time, he did not move over to let Arthur in. As what he thought to be a direct consequence, the prince did not continue his inquiry, only standing outside, looking as though each and every hair on his body was trying its hardest to jump from him to their untimely deaths. Once he realised that Arthur was probably feeling awkward due to his lack of an invitation inside, Merlin took a step to the side - no, correction, he tried to move to the side to let the prince in, but before he could do so Arthur was already through the doorway, taking Merlin by surprise, but before he could say anything Arthur's lips were upon his and once more they were kissing.

For a strange reason unbeknownst to Merlin, his first thought was to shut the door behind Arthur. Perhaps it was his innate fear of getting caught by one of the knights or otherwise nosy servants strolling past, or perhaps he didn't want Arthur to think he wanted him to leave. By any measure, the door was soon slammed shut (and Merlin certainly did _not_ use any enchantments to keep it that way, thank you very much).

He could not say why he let such a vile, pompous man kiss him again, but he did. In fact, he grew rather impatient when Arthur seemed to reign himself in, not pushing against Merlin with all of his weight. The force, Merlin decided, was not enough, far too little for how much time they had to kiss like this, and so he took matters into his own hands.

Wrapping his arms around Arthur's neck, Merlin gathered leverage on the prince, and then rather dramatically threw himself back into the wall. He hardly wanted to appear desperate, but... well, Arthur needed to be told somehow, right? And if that meant he had to suffer a minor concussion in the process of doing so, then so be it.

Taking the hint, Arthur pressed into Merlin more. He took the servant's lips into his teeth, bit Merlin and then peppered kisses onto the bites, as a nonverbal apology for what he had done. This was the best medicine Merlin had ever tasted, and he highly suspected he had developed an addiction to the man currently kissing him, because when the prince pulled away from his lips he whined - actually, genuinely _whined _like a petulant child - only to feel Arthur's lips and tongue and teeth on his neck, marking him there instead.

His lips had begun to hurt. He hadn't quite anticipated just how aggressive Arthur would become with his kissing and, while it was a most fantastic feeling in the moment, he knew he would almost certainly regret letting Arthur suck marks onto his neck and collarbone when he had to go about his day as normal, speaking to Gaius who he knew already would give him a knowing look. It was all worth it, at least for now, at least in his intoxicated mind.

The smell of Arthur was too much. That, coupled with the firm grip the prince had taken on his hips and used to keep him pressed against the wall, the sight of the oh-so-mighty Arthur dropping to his knees before him, nearing him and nearing his - oh, Lord, how could this be happening? What switch had shifted in Arthur's mind to make him want to do such things, and why now? What fantastic, mislead creature had the prince become, that he wanted Merlin so badly?

"I thought you were asleep already," he began murmuring almost incoherently, speaking about nothing at all, nonsense spilling over his lips to discourage his body becoming oversensitive too soon, "You wished me a good night just fifteen minutes ago. What changed?"

He looked down, which was his grave mistake. Could he choose again, he would have never sought Arthur out, because the gaze he met was... challenging. Lustful, to say the least, and totally heated. He looked like he not only wanted to taste Merlin, but to devour him whole. The prince slipped a hand beneath Merlin's shirt, and kissed the bare, pale skin there.

"I did," Arthur concurred, voice something comparable to a purr, "And then I dreamed of you. I had to look for you, to show you what I wanted to do."

"And is this what you dreamed of?"

Merlin's voice was vulnerable and teasing at the same time. He had never sounded like this, never felt like this, never expected these wildest fantasies to come to life like this, so suddenly, but he did not question it. To his disappointment, Arthur rose to his feet again, though Merlin did not remain dismayed for very long as the prince dipped his head and kissed him deeply once more, his hands coming to grasp Merlin's neck.

"I dreamed of this," Arthur agreed, then contradicted himself, "I dreamed of kissing you, anyway. After that first night... I couldn't stop thinking of it. Whilst you were dressing me, undressing me, bathing me... I wanted to do it again, and again. Merlin, you have no idea what you do to me."

Merlin's eyes felt like fire. He presumed that his face was red, bright as a tomato, somewhere between aroused and embarrassed, though he never wanted the prince to stop speaking about him like this.

"Well, even though you're a prat-"

Merlin didn't get a chance to finish, because suddenly Arthur was upon him again, kissing him firmly on the mouth, shutting him up. He tried again to speak, between kisses, but was stopped each and every time. He persisted, eventually forcing Arthur to pull back and give him a pointed look.

"Shut. Up." He ordered, and Merlin immediately obeyed. He knew this wasn't meant to be rude. Actually, he perceived it to be endearing, that Arthur wanted to kiss him without interruption. Even if part of him did want to finish his tale, the other part was grateful that he didn't have to, instead returning his hands to their place on Arthur's head. It took only a brief moment of deliberation before he threaded his fingers into the golden locks sprouting from the prince's head, earning a pleased 'hmmm' that he drank in, feeling it as it went from Arthur's mouth into his own, falling down his throat and landing in his stomach. He felt excitedly nauseous.

He grew even more nervous when Arthur's hands came to rest at the band of his trousers, seeming to wait for a cue that they could slip inside. Merlin made no act to stop him, though, instead preparing himself for what may come. Soon, though, it became clear that nothing at all would happen, because there was now a sound knocking at the door.

"Merlin?" Gaius' voice came after a moment, calling to him through the thick material. The old man seemed to recognise that the door would not open and there was only one cause for this.

Both Merlin and Arthur began to panic at this. They jumped apart, then each began to brush themselves down, attempting to fix their hair and clothing, level out their breathing so that when the door opened Gaius would be none the wiser. It was hard to fool the man, but in this instance it was vital to at least try.

"I didn't know your door had a lock on it," Arthur said absently as he tried desperately to make himself look decent, so that he could exit and walk past Gaius without looking so obviously like he had just pinned the physician's servant against the wall and kissed him to within an inch of his life. "Though I'm glad it does."

"Neither did I," Merlin said accidentally, though thankfully it seemed to be so quiet that Arthur did not realise he had done so. The two of them looked once more at one another, checking the other man looked presentable, and then as though previously mutually agreed they shared another brief kiss before Merlin opened the magically locked door and Gaius turned the handle.

The old man seemed shocked that this worked, though admittedly not quite as shocked by the fact that there, stood inside of the strangely locked room stood Arthur, and beside him Merlin. The three of them shared an awkward glance before Arthur slipped out, past Gaius, sparing him a 'lovely to see you, Gaius. Sleep well', as though that would throw the man off of their trail.

Silently, Gaius walked into the room, and shut the door over behind him. He took his time, though eventually he came to face Merlin, and gave him the knowing look the warlock had been fearing seeing since the very first time Arthur had kissed him.

"What?" He asked the physician, receiving a raised-eyebrow look in return.

"This door has no locks, Merlin," Gaius stated, as though the man didn't know that much already. Merlin nodded, and Gaius took this as his permission for him to keep speaking, "I thought you were being killed in here, though I'm glad to say I was wrong. Unless, of course, there's something you aren't telling me?"

"Nope," Merlin responded, perhaps just a little too quickly. His voice was higher than usual, though not noticeably so. "Nothing at all."

"Oh, good," Gaius nodded, then feigned turning away, turning back just in time to catch Merlin attempting to regain his breath that Arthur had stolen from him, "So, Arthur wasn't trying to kill you?"

"I don't believe he was, Gaius," Merlin said, offering the man a smile, as though this might bribe him to drop the matter and never, ever return to it. "At least, he didn't seem to be."

Gaius did not ask what Arthur came there for, nor did he press as to why the door without a lock was miraculously locked. Instead, he looked at Merlin for a moment longer, letting the warlock know for certain he was onto him, then turned back to place his books on the table, and took his seat before them.

Given this chance to run, Merlin took it. He did not look back over his shoulder as he quickly scurried off into his room, flopping back down onto his bed, using his world-changing, mind-bending magic to shut his bedroom door, leaving him alone, feeling giddy, with his mixed emotions, all of which regarded the handsome prince that seemed to have taken a sudden liking to him. How peculiar it was.

**

Once more, Merlin finds himself in Arthur's bedroom. This time, however, he isn't hanging clothing nor sweeping up after the surprisingly messy prince. Now, he's laying flat on his back, shirt on and trousers off, Arthur's hand on his cock.

The prince kisses him sloppily, and he forgets just about everything except for Arthur's name. He's so close - he's been close for what seems like an hour now, though it's probably only been ten or so minutes. Arthur's spared him a hand, pumping him whilst the prince's other hand remains on his own member, working himself in the same way. What with how needily Merlin's whimpering now, he knows he should feel ashamed, but he just can't bring himself to do so.

Arthur's slowly but surely coming undone, too. His movements are becoming more erratic, less concise and calculated than they had been beforehand, seemingly only able to move his hands and look over at Merlin, taking the sight of him in, how he looks like this. He smiles, though it's crooked, and his chest and shoulders begin to flex, and Merlin knows this signifies Arthur is coming to his climax.

Absently, Merlin pushes Arthur's hand off of him, instead taking himself into his own hand and touching himself for the first time that day. Admittedly, it doesn't feel quite so pleasant, and he's almost certain Arthur's done that to other men before, because he's just far too good at it for his own good. The prince rides out his own orgasm, stroking himself through it, and doesn't seem to take too much offence to Merlin's action.

Once he's just about finished, he takes a brief pause to recollect himself, sighs, then realises Merlin hasn't finished yet. Taking it upon himself to rectify this, he seems to consider taking back his hold on Merlin's cock, only to decide against it soon enough. He instead rolls onto his side, looking gloriously godlike with his perfect body, laying naked beside his manservant, and watches Merlin.

This makes him feel nervous. It makes him feel as though he has to come soon, or else he'll disappoint Arthur, or make him feel as though he doesn't want him or find him attractive - and _that_ couldn't be further from the truth. Thankfully, though, Arthur only watches for a moment, and then he's leaning over to Merlin, taking his face into both of his hands, and kissing him square on the mouth. He shifts to find a better angle, and Merlin gratefully lets Arthur's tongue enter him, slipping past his lips, when the prince wordlessly asks for it.

It takes virtually no time after this for Merlin to squeeze his eyes shut, withdrawing reluctantly from the kiss only to breathe Arthur's name like a prayer, and then he's coming onto his shirt and Arthur's pristine sheets. Once finished, he registers just how rude this is, and begins to apologise.

"Oh, Arthur, I'm sorry, I'll clean them up as soon as-"

Arthur's laughter makes him stop. He furrows his brows, not seeing what's quite so funny, but he needn't ask the question as Arthur's already beginning to answer. "Oh, Merlin, calm down, would you? You can't ever just relax, can you?"

And, with that, everything seems to fall back into place. Merlin had briefly worried that such an intimate encounter would change them, but apparently this is not the case. Sure, it is a little out of character when Arthur reaches for him again, pulling him into another kiss, but the backhanded insult means they haven't deviated so far away from the norm.

Merlin tells himself he'll get up, clean everything up, wipe surfaces down and tear off the sheets before he returns to Gaius, where he'll have to pretend like nothing ever happened. He recites this plan to himself as he begins to doze off, and accepts it'll never be put into plan when he nuzzles into Arthur's neck.

The last thing he can remember is the feeling of Arthur's strong arm slipping around his waist, pulling him closer to his firm chest, and then the world - all warm, pink and beautiful - fades to a peaceful blackness.

**

"Merlin," Arthur's voice has no love in it - not that Merlin thinks there _should_ be such an emotion evident in his tone, of course - as he calls for his manservant. "Why don't you ever kiss me?"

Merlin's glad they're alone, because if Arthur'd have said that anywhere else in the castle he couldn't be certain he wouldn't accidentally light the world on fire with his powers and single-handedly cause Armageddon with his embarrassment.

"What?" He scoffs, trying to play it off as though he's unfazed by the line of questioning, though he obviously is. "What are you talking about? I kiss you all of the time."

"No, you kiss me _back_," Arthur clarifies, emphasising the final word for dramatic effect, as always. "There's a distinct difference."

Merlin stops dead in his tracks. Is Arthur displeased with their arrangement? He'd thought their 'staying as friends who sometimes happen to kiss and sleep together' set-up pleased the prince, though he apparently had been wrong in this belief. He finishes folding a sheet, feeling solemn and empty, waiting for Arthur to continue speaking to him.

"I wish you'd initiate kisses more, is all," Arthur says nonchalantly, as though each of his words isn't making Merlin's heart race faster and faster, and his face burn hotter. "In fact, come over here."

Merlin turns around to look at Arthur, who's moved to stand behind his chair situated at the table where he usually eats his meals. He catches Merlin's unsuspecting eye and nods, insinuating that he should obey his prince right that moment and take the damn seat. He does.

Arthur pushes the chair forward so that his legs come to rest beneath the table, and then he feels even more at a loss. He isn't afraid, not at all. He knows Arthur would never hurt him and, after all of their encounters now, he knows Arthur would never force him to do anything he really didn't want to, and yet there's still a nervous pool beginning to form in his stomach, leaving a gaping, rusty hole in his insides.

Arthur brings over a chair that's hidden in the corner of the room and places it across from Merlin, sitting opposite him. He scoots closer, then interlocks his fingers and places them on the table.

"Alright," he says, then raises his eyebrows, "Go ahead. Do with me as you please."

It's specifically this order that has him at a loss, because _what does he want to do with Arthur?_ The answer, of course, is just about everything, but that doesn't seem to be a viable option here.

He's afraid to make any sort of movement, because he's suddenly realising that Arthur's right. He _never_ initiates their kisses. He's never the one to woo Arthur with his fantastic moves, though he'd been the one to initially fling himself haphazardly against the wall, he hardly thought that counted in this case.

"I... can't," he finally admits, albeit rather vaguely.

"You can't?" Arthur sounds almost like he's sneering at him, making fun of him. "What do you mean you can't? Do you mean you don't want to?"

"No!" Merlin's quick to defend this, because it's the truth, and he has to maintain that much. He fiddles with his fingers as he anxiously continues, "No, I want to, I just don't know how to."

"Merlin," Arthur looks at him seriously, voice gravelly and disbelieving, "I think you know how to. You've kissed me a lot, if you'll be so kind as to recall. Don't tell me you've forgotten it already."

Merlin gives him a 'you're an ass' look, and shakes his head, "I... I just don't know how to start a kiss. I know how to take one."

This phrasing seems to make Arthur's hairs stand on end, and it looks as though he has to physically restrain himself to avoid launching himself across the table and taking Merlin right then and there, claiming him as his own for once and for all. He nods instead, coming up with another suggestion.

"Okay," he says, nodding once more, "Alright, then. We'll start at the basics, shall we? How about... okay, how about you kiss me on the cheek?"

Merlin nods slowly. He thinks he can do that, because as the prince turns his head to the side and points to the swell of his rosy cheek with a finger, it doesn't look intimidating at all, which Merlin realises is a strange way to phrase it, although apt.

He takes a breath as he leans over the table, putting his elbows onto it to enable a further, safer reach. He's just about to kiss Arthur gently on the cheek when the prince suddenly turns his head, capturing Merlin's lips with his own, applying what seems like the perfect amount of pressure instantly.

Merlin thinks he might melt then and there. He's been feeling like that a lot lately, most probably because he's been feeling higher than the clouds after learning Arthur - the prince, future king of Camelot, who has his literal pick of the bunch - wants _him_. It all feels like a terrible dream.

He can't bring himself to pull back, even when he begins to feel lightheaded and he realises he's not breathing properly. Only when Arthur withdraws from the kiss does he inhale, though even this doesn't make him come back to himself. His body no longer feels like his own, but rather a secondary vessel for the prince.

"Rule number one," Arthur states, proudly, a grin spreading across his stupid face, "Always try to take them by surprise."

"Is that so?" Merlin asks innocently.

"Yes, that's right," he nods, clearly enjoying being Merlin's teacher in regards to all things physical and romantic, "You have a lot to learn yet, though, so don't be getting too cocky now, Merlin."

"Scared I'll start kissing the whole town?"

Merlin means his question as a joke, though it seems to have a profound impact on Arthur, who all but shuts down then and there, swallowing hard. His eyes glaze over, as though imagining the horrific scene painted by Merlin himself. He only scoffs, and sounds half-hearted as he speaks once more.

"You wouldn't dare," he challenges, making Merlin quirk an eyebrow.

"Try me," Merlin retorts, making Arthur lean back in his seat. He looks almost convinced that Merlin would do something so terribly unfaithful - even though they aren't official, it seems to scare him, the thought of losing Merlin to somebody else. Then again, this could just be the warlock's wishful thinking.

"I'd never kiss you again if you did," Arthur vows, making Merlin burst out into laughter.

"I think we both know that's not true," Merlin says, standing and returning to his chores, as though nothing at all had happened. Though, he can't deny the fact that there's a snowballing sense of pride in his chest. After all, he had just kissed the prince, and how many people could say that?

**

Merlin tries to keep up appearances. Sure, it's okay for them to drop their guards when they're in the safe spaces of either Merlin's room or Arthur's, but on days like this - when they're sat in a relatively public space, where actual people can see them - he'd figured they had a mutual agreement not to do anything.

This seems to not be the case, however, as upon Arthur's arrival in the courtyard, he'd had little eyes nor time for anybody else, instead spotting Merlin from a mile off and making a beeline for him.

"Merlin!" He'd called, drawing more attention to himself. Merlin had wrongly presumed this meant he wouldn't try anything, as people were looking at them now, but he couldn't have been further from the mark.

As Merlin went to greet the prince, he was stopped. He'd even had a 'sire' ready, waiting on his lips, but then he was frozen in his place when Arthur came up to him and planted a kiss firmly on the side of his face. This was not how they usually greeted, and everybody knew it. Merlin could only look suspiciously at Arthur, eyeing him like he'd finally gone mad, though the prince did not once address it.

"What have you been up to?" He asked, throwing his arms in the air and letting them fall back down to his sides, "I've barely seen you since Tuesday."

"It's Wednesday morning," Merlin quipped, then realised his mistake. In the most childish voice he could muster, he added, "Sire."

He smirked, sure this would irk Arthur enough to stop looking at him with those bloody infatuated eyes, but was once again proven wrong. Arthur merely nodded, then laughed. He pointed a finger at Merlin, and then said something the latter man hadn't anticipated, ever.

"See, this is why I love you, Merlin."

At this, Merlin's grin fell. He immediately dragged Arthur away, somewhere nearby and secluded, and gave him a look that implored him to explain exactly what he thought he was doing.

Appearing not to catch on, Arthur mere quirked an eyebrow at him and asked, "Do you want me to kiss you now or...?"

Merlin felt as though he was going to explode. "Arthur, you can't say things like that, especially not out there, where people might hear you. Word spreads fast here, and you don't want people thinking you're..."

"That I'm what, Merlin?"

"That you're settling," Merlin finally said, unintentionally sighing as he did so. He felt suddenly exhausted, as though he'd been holding in those specific words for the longest time.

"But I'm not settling, Merlin," Arthur smiled, though he looked confused. "How could I ever settle with you? I love you, and-"

Just as Arthur went to take his hands, Merlin withdrew, walking backwards, further into the darkness of the concealed alcove. He couldn't hear the prince say something so unlike himself again, something that was so clearly false and he just... he couldn't. That was the long and short of it all.

"Stop saying that," he shook his head at Arthur, walking backwards until he hit a wall. "You don't mean that, you don't mean it."

With the way he was speaking, he couldn't tell who he was trying to convince: Arthur, or himself. The prince, however, persisted, approaching him with gentle steps and eyes that shone with something all too fond, something like-

"Love," Arthur said, finishing in unison with Merlin's thoughts, "Why don't you want me to say it, Merlin? It's the truth, is it not?"

"It's not," Merlin answered the rhetorical question.

"I think only I know the answer to that, Merlin," Arthur barked out another laugh, but stopped when he saw how truly uncomfortable Merlin was, squirming up against the wall, looking as though he wished he would disappear into a puddle on the floor, or better yet straight into thin air, never to be seen again. "Are you feeling alright?"

Merlin once more dodged Arthur's attempt to reach out for him, and in his panic he engaged his powers. Fearing the worst, he had to admit he was relatively relieved when all that happened was a discarded mop flew from the a corner and whacked Arthur on the head, knocking him unconscious but - as Merlin double checked - still alive and breathing.

He crept past the body and quickly ran to seek the only person he trusted with the knowledge that he had just used magic to knock the prince of Camelot straight out: Gaius.

"Gaius!" He called, slamming himself into the door in the hopes of making it open faster, "You have to help me. Please, I don't know what's going on with Arthur."

The physician cast a look over at the frantic boy, and settled whatever work he was doing in favour of helping him. One look at him, and Gaiud could tell Merlin was on the brink of falling apart.

"What is it, Merlin? What's happened to Arthur?"

As he spoke, Gaius encouraged Merlin to sit down, though the warlock refused. He instead took to leaning on the chair offered to him, making Gaius eye him suspiciously. Whatever was it that was making such a powerful being so filled with terror?

"He... it's sort of a long story, but-" Merlin tried to figure the best, shortest, least exposing way to tell Gaius that, after weeks of shagging, Arthur had told him he loved him, and for this reason (both reasons, come to think of it) he thought the prince had been put under a sort of spell. "He's in love. Again."

"Again?" Gaius sounded genuinely exhausted, because _really_? How many times now had the young prince been in love? "And who might he be in love with this time?"

"Uh," Merlin paused, considering telling Gaius the whole truth, the fact that scared him the most, how he was afraid he had fallen in love with Arthur and didn't want to find out their encounters had been merely the result of sorcery, "It's not important."

"Right," Gaius eyed him, but did not press the matter. "And why are you bringing this to me?"

"Because," Merlin was glad they had gotten here so quickly, because he couldn't handle an interrogation from Gaius; the man would break him far too quickly, and he didn't fancy talking about his feelings about Arthur, not now and not ever. "He isn't really in love with them; I think he's been put under a spell."

"A spell?" Gaius sounded outraged, taken aback and incomprehensibly confused, "You think somebody has given Arthur a love potion?"

"Yes, I do, because he's been acting strange around them lately - not like himself - and then today, he told them he loved them, and that just can't be true," Merlin tried to distance himself from the scenario, so that Gaius didn't connect the dots. "You have to help me, Gaius!"

"I see," the man sounded pensive, and then he quirked an eyebrow at Merlin, "Well, the effects of most potions last for about a week, unless administered again, which would be too risky for a sorcerer to try, especially in Camelot on the king's son. How long did you say it's been?"

Oh. Merlin swallowed hard, and responded, rounding down, "About a month."

"Hmm," Gaius feigned thoughtfulness, yet his face did not change. This was beginning to feel like one of those moments that Merlin despised so much, when Gaius used hypotheticals and rhetorical questions to make him see what he was so blind to, "Perhaps it's a love spell, then?"

"Yes!" Merlin was grateful for the alternate explanation, "Yes, that must be it, then."

"And have you seen anybody casting a spell on him, Merlin?" Gaius asked, and Merlin shook his head, "Have there been any new visitors to Camelot that could have gotten near enough to Arthur to cast such a spell on him?"

Merlin shook his head again, and went to defend himself. "I'm not with him every hour of every day, though, so someone could have-"

Just then, Gaius held up a hand to stop him speaking. The old man looked bemused, and soon he began to chuckle. He stood up, made his way around the table, and patted Merlin on the shoulder.

"Merlin, Arthur isn't under a love spell, and he hasn't been given any sort of a potion." He told him, stating it as though he knew. He always spoke so matter-of-factly; Merlin envied his cool confidence.

"He hasn't?" Merlin asked, sounding faint.

"No, Merlin, he hasn't." Gaius looked up at him, a sort of pity spreading across his face, "So I'd suggest you go and apologise to him, and tell him you love him too."

Before Merlin could counter this point, Gaius was gone. The man shuffled across the room, not sparing Merlin another look nor word, leaving him to make up his own mind. He paused for a moment, considering the man's conclusion and recommendation, then sprinting back out of the room, returning quickly to the site of Arthur's knockout.

He knelt beside Arthur, feeling guilty, and soon enough the prince began to stir. Merlin felt immensely better when he finally saw the bright blue eyes appear from behind Arthur's closed lids and, though he looked groggy, it was good news that Arthur didn't seem to have any severe damage from his brutal attack.

"Shh," Merlin hushed Arthur when he tried to speak, probably to ask Merlin what had happened, which was a question that the warlock wasn't ready to answer, because he hadn't thought of a lie yet. "Let's get you somewhere safe."

As he suggested, he slowly brought Arthur up to stand. It took a few minutes as each time Arthur's head lolled back and his eyes began to close, Merlin lowered him again until he regained total consciousness. It was hardly gruelling, though, as all the while Arthur had his arm draped over his shoulder, and this gave Merlin an adrenaline rush like nothing he'd ever experienced before - and, with how his last month and a half had gone, that was really saying something.

Eventually, after probably about half an hour, he managed to get Arthur up to his room and safely in his bed. He stripped the prince of his belt and shoes, but left the remainder of his clothes on. His shirt and pants were relatively baggy, so would do as sleepwear, at least for the short nap that Arthur looked like he was going to take.

Merlin tucked Arthur in and went to leave the room, though turned back to look at the prince for just a second longer, wondering all the while just how he had gotten so miserably lucky to be stuck with such a prat. And, he had to remind himself, a prat that loved him.

**

They spoke minimally. Merlin continued to insist that Arthur rest, recounting to him how his injury had occurred, how he had collapsed likely due to exhaustion or dehydration and hit his head on a nearby broom. It wasn't so far from the truth, right? The prince, as always, loved to counter him, and so of course he did not heed Merlin's advice to remain bed-ridden.

That Friday, the king had organised a feast to celebrate Arthur's birthday, despite his son groaning and insisting that really wouldn't be necessary. After all, as the prince had confided in Merlin a couple of times, he wasn't the world's biggest fan of celebrations, especially not when he was the centre of attention for the whole of the night.

Merlin teased Arthur about it in the days leading up to the feast. The prince swatted at him, called him names and the lot, but this only fuelled Merlin. He was determined to remind Arthur of his upcoming birthday every single day and night, which was why each and every morning he'd wake Arthur up with a countdown til the very day, which would almost always result in Merlin getting a pillow thrown in his face. Still, he beamed.

On the day, however, he said nothing. It was the greatest prank of all: he made Arthur believe there was some great build-up to a grand finale on the day, and yet there was nothing. He woke Arthur up as he would on any ordinary day, as though he wasn't one year older and therefore on year closer to bearing the weight of the kingdom on his shoulders.

He treated him as he ordinarily would, if not a little more reserved. He obeyed what Arthur said, every so often offering quips and providing banter, dressing and undressing Arthur in his armour and cleaning said armour afterwards, until it sparkled.

That evening, however, they were apart. For the first half of the night, at least, because as soon as Uther's drawn-out speech about how proud he was to see Arthur growing up to be the man he was becoming, et cetera et cetera, the first thing Arthur did was stand and seek Merlin.

It was a rather impressive feat, how quickly Arthur located him in the sea of people. Merlin, of course, could see Arthur coming from a mile away, what with his bright blonde hair and sparkling prince's crown, and yet it seemed that Arthur had seen him sooner. He cornered Merlin, initiating conversation with a smirk painted across his face.

"Lovely outfit, Merlin," he said, voice low, "Where'd you buy that?"

"Shut it," Merlin said, rolling his eyes, though laughing as he did so.

"I'm serious, I want to get one myself," Arthur's smile grew as he flicked the purple feather adorning Merlin's floppy hat, "Oh, and you can't speak to me like that - not today, especially. Don't you know it's my birthday?"

"Is it? I had no idea why all these people were here," Merlin played along, though sensed the mood shift. It went from light-hearted and friendly to something else entirely, something tangible but unnameable.

"You say that like you weren't the one counting down til today," Arthur said, voice barely above a whisper now, then grasped Merlin's chin, holding him in place with only his thumb and index finger, then dipped his head to kiss his manservant.

Merlin almost let himself be kissed, but at the very last second he turned his head. He did not make any move to change how close their bodies were, finding he rather liked the heat pouring from Arthur's body into his own, but knew a kiss would be overstepping his self-imposed boundaries.

He shook his head, and thought privately to himself. Even if Arthur wasn't bewitched, even if Gaius was right and it was indeed true that the prince was in love with him (which he still couldn't wrap his head around, but took it hypothetically), there was no way this could be anything more. It wasn't that Merlin expected Arthur to wed him or else drop every responsibility he had been given since birth to be with him, but he did want _something_. He had always told himself he would not turn into a royal consort, and he wanted to abide by this rule, if nothing else. Arthur could not be with him, which was a fact Merlin could accept even if it wasn't necessarily okay, but he couldn't allow them to live this lie, to live a secret life in the shadows, any longer.

"I can't, Arthur," he told him, holding the prince's eye no matter how much it pained him to do so, "Maybe things can be different when you're king, but for now... I can't be your consort."

"You aren't my consort, Merlin," Arthur told him, tone now back to its normal volume, speaking as he would any other day with anybody else. He stopped for a moment, taking the chance to stare at Merlin before furrowing his brow, looking more determined now. "Sod that, we're starting now. Come with me."

Merlin had no choice in the matter, because before he knew it his limp body was being ushered (dragged) through the crowd by Arthur, who stopped at a table placed in the very middle of the grand hall and clambered atop it.

"Everyone!" He called, gathering some people's attention, then repeated the word to gain that of the remaining few that weren't looking at him, "Everyone, listen, if you would."

"Arthur, what are you-"

"Merlin, come on up," Merlin tried to resist, but Arthur eventually won, and he ended up standing beside the prince on top of the table. He felt every single pair of eyes turn on him as Arthur spoke; he wanted to bury his face in Arthur's neck, but refrained.

"This, as you all probably know by now, is my manservant, Merlin," he gestured to Merlin, who waved awkwardly, wishing he hadn't done so immediately after, "He's awkward, gangly, and has ears the size of the eastern gate."

This reference earned a few chuckled from the crowd, while others continued to look on at the scene unfolding before them, mesmerised. Merlin elbowed Arthur conspicuously, shooting him a look that said 'uncalled for', but he said nothing so Arthur did not reply.

"But, what you might not know," Arthur continued, looking Merlin in the eyes now, his own icy blue pair softening as he did so, "Is that I am madly in love with this weird, awkward, frankly terrible manservant, and I want you all to see that. And, most of all, I want you to understand that, Merlin."

Merlin felt his face heat up at Arthur's words. As much as he wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole, however, he couldn't imagine ever looking away from Arthur in this moment. The prince had never looked so sincere, at least not in the time Merlin had known him, and this sincerity won over Merlin's heart.

This, perhaps, was why Merlin did not resist when Arthur suddenly took a step forward, stood closer to him once more, and took him by the waist. Like something out of a fantastic tale, rather like those his mother liked to tell him when he was a boy, of ladies and knights and their wonderful, blossoming love, Arthur then seamlessly dipped him, not once faltering as one might expect when on top of a creaky, wooden table, and kissed him.

Though not in the forefront of his mind, Merlin did pay some attention to the audience's reaction. There were some cheers, some mild claps, and then he heard some huffs and puffs of those that either disliked what they saw or were completely disinterested by it. Either way, this did not deter him, as he wrapped his arms around the back of Arthur's head and pulled him in close, never wanting to leave him.

Eventually, however, Arthur brought him back to the real world, standing him up and reluctantly parting their lips. The two of them stood there for another moment, wading in the silence, and Merlin took the time to cast his eyes around the room.

Over on the highest level of the hall, he found Uther looking completely and utterly stunned, and beside him an overjoyed Morgana, who was still clapping and beaming at them. In the sea of relatively ordinary people, he found similar mixed reactions, but when his gaze landed on Arthur, none of the other people's thoughts mattered, because he was smiling.

Smiling, because Merlin had just let him kiss him. Smiling, because their love was no longer a secret. Smiling because now, though the road was not smooth by any means, they were on their way to their happily ever after, whatever that may turn out to be. Slipping his hand into Merlin's, Arthur jumped from the bench, shortly followed by the warlock, who also couldn't stop himself beaming.

"Well, that was quite something," Merlin sighed, then dissolved into a fit of laughter, soon followed by Arthur.

"Yes, I think it was," the prince said as they stopped their juvenile giggling, his eyes sparkling as though he were brand new. "Was that alright, Merlin?"

"Alright? You think dragging me onto a table for the entirety of Camelot's nobles to see and then snogging me is alright, do you?" He saw Arthur's smile begin to fade, so he quickly dove in to save the day, pecking the prince on the lips and giving him the life he seemed to have lost during Merlin's rant. "I love you too, Arthur. Happy birthday."

Arthur's smile could not be contained as he looked over at Merlin. He could almost see their future in his eyes, as cheesy as that was, and to Merlin's delight, that future did not seem to be formulated from lies nor potions. In fact, there seemed to be very little magic intertwined with it, which was a great relief to the young warlock, who almost felt like they were unstoppable, even if he did highly suspect Uther would call for him in the morning.

"Happy birthday to me," Arthur agreed, nodding, pulling Merlin in for another kiss, one that seemed to seal their deal for the rest of eternity.


End file.
